


A Wonderful Life

by gray_autumn_sky



Series: Second Chances [5]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-27 15:28:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7624048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gray_autumn_sky/pseuds/gray_autumn_sky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hood-Mills Family Fluff- A glimpse into their lives at a time Robin is feeling particularly grateful for his family on Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Wonderful Life

It’s late—but, not too late, he hopes—as he steps inside and shakes the snow from his boots and coat. He can hear a movie playing in the next room as he removes layers upon layers of winter clothing, and he smiles, wiggling his toes in socks as he stands, glad that some part of this day is salvageable and he’ll be able to enjoy Christmas Eve with his family.

But when he enters the living room, only Henry turns to greet him.

“Hey, you’re home,” he says with a slight smile, pausing the movie. “Mom said you’d be working late at the tavern.”

Robin nods, shivering as he comes closer. “Little John offered to cover for me–and it was an offer too tempting not to take.” He smiles as his eyes trail from Henry to the stack of DVD cases beside him and then to Hope, who lies on her back beneath the tree in her favorite snowman pajamas. “I just wish I’d have gotten here before everyone fell asleep,” he murmurs, looking back at Henry, “It appears I missed all the fun.”

“We did have fun,” Henry confirms. “We all picked a movie—this is one’s mom’s favorite.” A grin tugs at the corners of his mouth as he lifts the DVD case and examines the cover—a happy family full of smiles and the words _It’s a Wonderful Life_ are splayed across the top. His eyes trail to Regina, tucked beneath her blanket, her features softened and content. “It’s the second time we’ve watched it today.”

“Your sister wasn’t interested?” Robin asks, nodding toward Hope, watching as the colorful twinkling lights dance over her face and noting a soft smile on her lips. “I’d hardly expect her to miss out on anything Christmas-related.”

 “She’s been under there for hours,” Henry says with a soft chuckle. “Mom couldn’t even lure her out with cookies. She said that if she sleeps under the tree, that’s her best chance of meeting Santa.”

With a sigh and a smile, he looks back to Henry, shaking his head. His daughter is stubbornly determined—a trait she’s inherited from both her parents.

From the moment Roland told her they’d have to be in bed early on Christmas Eve, that Santa wouldn’t deliver the presents otherwise, she’d wondered why. She’d asked a thousand questions that day—wouldn’t Santa have to deliver the presents if they’d been good all year and what if just one of them were awake, would only that kid’s presents not get delivered; was that really fair to the elves after all their hard work—and Roland became annoyed, his brow furrowing over his bowl of cereal as he told he maybe she just ask Santa herself. And so she’d decided that she would do just that.

“So…was it busy at the tavern?” Henry asks, changing the subject and turning himself to face Robin. “Because if you need some extra help…”

Robin grins curiously. “Your mother would incinerate me if I allowed you to work in a _tavern_.”

“But it’s _your_ tavern,” Henry counters. “Haven’t you guys been together long enough for you to…override her decisions?”

At that, Robin laughs out. “You have an apparent death wish for me.”

“I’m sixteen and need a job that doesn’t pay in magical relics and life lessons,” Henry sighs. “The pawn shop’s great, but it’d be nice to be able to afford…you know…like…dinner and a movie or something.”

 “Dinner and a movie?” Robin repeats with arched eyebrows as Henry’s cheeks flush. “It sounds like this is about a girl more than it is a job.”

“Please don’t tell Mom,” Henry’s quick to say. “I’m not ready for an interrogation.”

“I’ll tell you what,” he begins, a smirk still painted across his lips. “How about you help me get your brother and sister off to bed, and I’ll consider it.”

“Deal,” Henry agrees, extending his hand toward Robin, who takes the boy’s hand and shakes it. “I’ll get Roland.”

Robin moves to the tree and scoops Hope into his arms, smiling as she wraps her arms and legs around him, murmuring something incomprehensible to him—something that sounds like a question. He kisses her cheek and watches as Henry rouses a groggy Roland, and together the four of them make their way toward the stairs.

“Wait,” Henry says as they reach the top of the stairs, turning back to Robin with wide brown eyes. “You never said what you’d consider—the job or not telling mom about the girl?”

He shakes his head as his grin stretches into a smile. “You’re right. I didn’t say,” he teases, as he slides his arm across Henry’s shoulders, laughing gently as they continue to walk toward down the hallway toward bedrooms. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

____

By the time he makes it back downstairs to Regina, all three kids are asleep. He carries with him the overflowing bags of Christmas presents that have been stored away at the back of their closets for months. He arranges them beneath the tree, checking the tags to ensure that each gift his been assigned. Grabbing one of the cookies meant for Santa, he takes a bite and stands back to admire his handiwork—watching the way the colorful lights glimmer against the metallic, jewel toned wrapping paper and glittery bows.

“Look whose home,” Regina says, her groggy voice cutting through the silence and drawing a smile across his lips. He turns toward her, her brown eyes hooded and her smile soft. “I thought you’d be at the tavern until it closed. I didn’t expect you for a few more hours.”

“Little John took pity on me,” he tells her, as he comes to sit beside her, his hand falling over her blanketed knee. “Apparently, hours upon hours of hearing how my pregnant wife was alone with three exuberant children on Christmas Eve took its toll.”

“Well,” Regina begins as she links her arm through his and drops her head to his shoulder, nuzzling her cheek against him as her eyes sink closed. “Your pregnant wife is glad that you’re here so that you can cuddle with her.”

And he intends to do just that. Holding her close, he listens to her breathing and enjoys the feel of her pressed into his side. His hand slides over the slight bump, low on her abdomen and rests there; he smiles as her hand covers his, and loses track of how long they stay that way. After awhile, he wonders if she’s fallen asleep.

But then her voice cuts in, tired and quiet, but a little laugh ringing behind it, “So who do you think will be up first?”

“Hope,” he says, “Without question.”

“She’s so excited,” Regina tells him, turning her head on his shoulder to look back at him. “She could barely contain herself today. She was driving the boys _crazy_.” He chuckles softy at the thought—the boys have been so patient with her, indulging questions about what food reindeer like to eat, why green and red are the colors of Christmas, and whether or not Santa prefers sugar or gingerbread cookies—it’s no doubt that after more than a month, their patience is wearing thin. “Between her and this little one doing cartwheels in here,” she says, her hand pressing his against the soft swell of her abdomen, “I’m amazed that still I’m awake.”

He kisses her temple in reply and slides closer to her, brushing his lips over her jaw, trailing feather light kisses on her skin. He strokes his hand up and down the length of her arm, smiling gently as she burrows closer. He can feel her breath evening and her body growing heavier against him.

“Shall we go upstairs? Try to get a proper night’s sleep?”

Her eyes flutter and she presses herself closer, “No.”

“No?” He asks, peering down at her with a curious smile. “Then, what do you suggest we do instead?”

“Stay here,” she murmurs, her eyes opening, blinking a few times before meeting his as she fans the blanket so that it falls over him too, “Cuddle up and watch it snow.” He watches as her eyes drift past him, and for a moment, he follows her gaze, watching as the thick flakes float down against the back drop of the night sky. And then his eyes come back to her—watching as she watches the snow fall, looking so serene.

He looks at her, sliding his arm around her back as he settles beside her, watching as his touch draws out a soft smile—the sort of smile that starts off slow, then creeps across her lips, lighting up her face and crinkling at her eyes, the sort of smile that is so genuinely content, the sort of smile that makes him fall in love with her all over again, reminding him of how grateful he is that they’re at the place in their lives that they are.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” She murmurs in a voice just above a whisper.

He nods, his eyes still resting on her, “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”

___

They awake to a thunderous uproar from upstairs, as little feet scamper and doors open.  Hope’s tiny voice rings out into the silence like a little siren, signaling to the rest of them that it’s time to wake up—that it’s Christmas morning. Robin can’t help but laugh as he hears her feet hit the floor, and as soon as they do, she’s on the move.

He thinks back to last Christmas, her excitement palpable, but still too young to really understand and take part in the festivities. But this year, this year had been something else entirely. From the start of the season, Hope had gleamed with excitement—and all of that excitement culminated in this very morning.

“IT’S CHRISTMAS,” she calls. “Roland! Henry! _IT’S CHRISTMAS_!” Robin smiles as he hears Henry groan, as his bedroom door is thrown open by this overly excited little sister as she bounds down the hallway. “MOMMY! DADDY! IT’S….” Her voice stops as he hears their bedroom door behind tossed open, and Hope has found it empty. “Mommy…Daddy?”

“They’re probably already downstairs,” he hears Henry says, as he joins her in the hallway.

“Yeah, c’mon, Hope,” Roland chimes in with a yawn. “Let’s go see what Santa brought us!”

Regina laughs as she hugs the blanket down around them, relishing in the quiet warmth for just a moment longer. “I think this means we have to get up,” she says with a sigh, her eyes glittering as she looks up at him.

“Do we?” He asks, squeezing her shoulders and pressing his lips to her temple, his lips soft and warm against her skin. “I’m not yet convinced.”

“Well, you don’t have to be,” she tells him, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss against his lips. “Because they are.”

And right on cue, all three kids are coming down the stairs. Henry is holding Hope, ticking her sides as her laughter rings out and floats through the air, prompting Regina to sit up—and again, she smiles that smile of hers that makes his heart swell with love.

They watch as the kids come down stairs and Hope’s blue eyes widen at the sight of the mounds prettily wrapped packages beneath the tree. She’s suddenly quiet, almost serene, as she takes a few steps forward in complete awe of it. Even Roland—who, this year, at nearly eight, started to doubt the magic behind Christmas—has eyes filled with wonder.

“Santa came,” she whispers as she takes a tentative step forward. “He _really_ came…”

“I told you he would,” Roland teases as Henry chuckles, smiling as he watches the younger kids looking onward. “He wouldn’t have if you’d stayed up all night waiting, though.”

Regina kisses his cheek before getting up to join the kids at the tree. Robin watches for a moment, his heart warming as Regina kneels beside Hope, pointing to a large wrapped box with her name on it, and he smiles as Henry grabs the first gift from underneath the tree and hands it to Roland, whose eyes grow wide as he carefully rips away the glossy green paper—and for, at least one more year, the younger boy believes.

___

An hour later, discarded wrapping paper lies in a heap beneath the tree, forgotten. He and Regina have settles back on the couch and he finds himself drifting in and out of sleep—every now and then hearing something that pulls him back from his slumber, and reminding him just how lucky he is to be here in this moment, enjoying a quiet Christmas morning with a family he adores.

In the distance, he can hear Roland and Henry playing one of Roland’s new video games; and from the sound of Roland’s triumphant laugh, for the first time, Roland is winning. He smiles contently, his eyes still closed as he feels Hope crawl up onto the couch with them. He pulls the little girl into his lap, cuddling her close and kissing the top of her head as her little cheek presses against his chest as she murmurs a soft _I love you, Daddy_ groggily as her eyes sink closed.

“I love you, too,” he tells her, cuddling her against him. “Did you get everything you asked for?”

“Uh-huh,” she confirms, nodding against. “I still wish I could have met him.”

Robin smiles, “Maybe next year.”

“Yeah,” she murmurs back. “Did you get what you wanted for Christmas, Daddy,” she asks, her little voice just barely audible as she struggles against herself to stay awake.

He smiles to himself and kisses the top of her head once more, “I did, sweetheart,” he tells her. “I have everything I wanted.”

A sense of contentment floods him as he thinks of the family he and Regina have built together, and how unlikely that had once seemed to him. Their path to one another hadn’t been easy and the early stops had been riddled with pain and heartbreak and loss; yet, now, years later that’s all a distant memory to him—sometimes, even more like a dream.

He feels Regina shift beside him, her head falling to his shoulder, and he smiles, his thoughts becoming hazier.

It’s hard for him to remember his life before her and Henry. He thinks of the kind-hearted, good- natured boy Regina brought into his life, his best confidant, who he can always rely on for a laugh or a vote of support—be it on something serious or frivolous, like sampling new combinations of pizza toppings. And then he thinks of her. He never expected to love again, to find someone who would love his son as her own. Yet, that’s exactly what she’d done—and then, she’d done it again when Hope came into their lives. He wouldn’t have blamed her for walking away—the situation was messy and difficult—yet she’d stood by him, supported him, and loved him through it, aptly naming the girl for what she could mean for their future, rather than their past. And now, there was another child on the way—a child he was already madly in love with.

His head tilts overtop of hers, and he thinks to himself that they really do have a wonderful life.


End file.
